Unexpected Words
by 8NobodyKnows8
Summary: Canada walks in on Russia killing America *cue epic music*. But Russia is put for a spin when Canada says the unexpected. Summery fail is a fail. RussCan  kinda ! Elements of Snapped Canada...oh and btw, its a one-shot  for now . Rated T, just to be safe


**This is my first fan fic, so reviews would be much appreciated!**

**Sadly, I do not own any characters from Hetalia, so please don't sue me!**

**Hope you enjoy~!**

He had expected to hear a scream from the boy.

He had walked in on hi finishing off his most hated rival; the boy's elder brother.

He should have heard a scream…

Instead, the young blond looked at the scene with soft, unmoving violet eyes. He saw Ivan, lead pipe in hand, standing a mutilated corps drenched in blood; his brother's blood. When the teen opened his mouth, Ivan waited to hear the ear-splitting noise. His ears ached and yearned to year that defining sound of pure devastation and horror. But instead the teenage Russian heard a small, timid voice say two words he had never expected to hear.

"Thank you"

He frowned for a split second, unsure if he had heard him correctly. "C-come again…?"

The young blond before him threw himself into a fit of giggles, all the while staring at his brother's dead body. In between chuckles he managed to say, "I said, 'thank you'!"

Ivan didn't understand. Was this boy actually _happy_ he had murdered him? He took a step forward, looking over the blond teen.

When he came into the light, Ivan could see their family resemblance. Both brothers had nearly the exactly same facial features. However, the younger's seemed more rounded and soft.

Both had wonderfully blond hair that seemed to shine, even in dim light above them now. They shared the same pale complexion, and even when the younger smiled, it resembled the older. The only noticeable difference between the two was that _this_ one had a lovely set of deep violet eyes, unlike his brother who had blue.

_Those eyes…_Those scorching blue eyes that always mocked Ivan. The ones that always stared at him with hate and disgust. Ivan chuckled to himself as he stared at them now. Cold and lifeless. Yet somehow, they still managed to fill Ivan with an intense amount of rage.

"Even in death Alfred, you never cease to piss me off, da?"

He turned to see the younger brother make his may over to Alfred's bloodied body. The teen had a huge grin plastered to his face as he began to poke the corps with immense curiosity.

Seeing such a gesture brought a childlike smile to Ivan's face. He walked over and knelt beside the boy.

"What is your name?" he asked, still smiling, despite the amount of blood on him.

"Matthew," he said, mirroring Ivan's visage.

"Do you like my handiwork? It's pretty, da?" Matthew chuckled darkly, hugging his knees as he stared at what Ivan had done.

"Yes, it is…" he said. The Russian looked over in time to catch a glimpse of a psychotic gleam in the other's eye.

Ivan examined him closer, surprised by what he saw. Ivan himself was 17 years of age. Looking at the boy now, he could see that Matthew was only a few years younger.

"How old are you, comrade?"

"Hmm…?" Matthew tore his gaze away from Alfred to look at the Russian with huge, innocent eyes. "Oh, I'm 15."

"I see…my name is Ivan," he said extending a bloodied hand toward Matthew.

Matthew stared at him for a brief moment, then timidly extended his own hand to meet Ivan's, suddenly feeling shy about the whole situation. "I know," he quietly answered, averting his gaze.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, my brother would come home every day and rant about you. He was always calling you a 'commie bastard'…" Matthew trailed off, quickly glancing over at Ivan's expression. When he saw no offense, he relaxed.

Ivan sighed, "Da, he did call me that a lot, didn't he?" He giggled, dark memories passing through his mind. "But I doubt he'll be saying anything like that for a long time, da?"

Matthew grinned back. "Yeah, and I'll never be forgotten again!" He said, voice almost sing-songy.

Ivan gave him a questioning glance and the boy continued.

"We used to have lots of fun when we were little, you see. We did everything together and everything was happy…but when Al got into high school, all that changed." At this last statement, Matthew's eyes grew very dark, full of loathing. "All of a sudden, he didn't have time for me…_no one_ had time for me."

Ivan's face twisted in amusement as he leaned forward, intrigued by the boy's story.

"I was quickly forgotten, while Alfred became the star child. Of course, only_**I**_ saw the truth. Only _**I**_ noticed when he started drinking. Throwing parties while Mom and Dad were away, which of course _**I**_ got blamed for! When he would come home, only to sneak out again to some stupid rave his friends had planned! Going through girls like they were fucking garbage, using them, only to throw them away as if they were nothing!"

By this time, Matthew was shaking, hate consuming his slender frame. As Ivan watched this, his smile grew wider. He then extended his arm, placing it gently around Matthew's shoulders.

The boy's head shot up, tears streaming down his face. Then, with a sudden move, Matthew hugged Ivan, nearly knocking him over in the process.

Ivan's initial shock faded into a smile as he wrapped both arms around the teen, who was now sobbing into his chest.

After awhile, Matthew's breathe became stable again and his grip on the Russian loosened.

"You could come stay with me, da?"

Matthew lifted his head, puffy eyes wide with shock. "My house is really big, and it gets lonely being by myself. I mean, I have my sisters, but they…" Ivan didn't finish that sentence, thinking of his psychotic sisterly troubles (a certain blond with a knife coming to mind). He shuddered at the memories, and then turned back to the teen, still holding onto him, deep in contemplation.

"What about my parents?"

"What about them? If you go back, they'll just forget about you again."

Matthew flinched at his words, pained by the truth behind them. He then met Ivan's gaze, giving him a slight nod and said, "O-okay…"

"Wonderful!" He exclaimed, clutching the boy in a tight embrace. When he finally released him, he got up and dusted off his blood-drenched clothing.

After a careful check to ensure he had left no evidence at the scene of the crime, Ivan lightly gestured toward the door. With a look of uncertainty, Matthew shuffled toward it, not knowing what his new life with Ivan had in store. Never the less, he left the room, leaving its metallic smell behind, and waited patiently for his new friend to follow.

Ivan gave one last glance around the room, trying to remember every last detail of the scene before him. His eyes finally rested on the body in the middle of it all. Staring deeply into those glazed and lifeless eyes, Ivan chuckled to himself.

"Good night, comrade."

He shut the door.


End file.
